


reparations

by ghoulmanic



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Ghoul Sex, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, actually. not very light, bottom!Danse, degredation, kind of porn with feelings at the end cause i’m a simple person with Many Emotions, not dubious consent bc hancock is a gentleman, small dom tall sub: the fic, top!Hancock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulmanic/pseuds/ghoulmanic
Summary: ”You alright with that, hun?” He draws out the last word like an insult, and drags his index finger up across Danse’s jugular in a soft motion.Danse nods after a moment.”I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation, sunshine. Use your words.”
Relationships: John Hancock/Paladin Danse
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	reparations

Hancock can’t fucking stand it.

Every day, it’s: “Watch it, _ghoul_ ,” or “Out of my way, _mutant_ ,” or some dumb shit along those lines. He might’ve been able to put up with the bigoted shit from the weirdo in the tin can if it were just him taking the brunt of the attack, but no. No one’s safe from that asshole. Not Nick, not Codsworth, not even Curie. How much of an asshole do you have to be to pick on Curie, of all people? 

Hancock’s gonna put an end to this, one way or another.

Danse looks up to where Hancock knocks on his doorway, face souring when he sees who it is.

”What do you want, ghoul,” he grits, turning back to his tinkering or whatever-the-fuck he was doing.

Hancock steps in and slams the door hard, a cold glint in his mischievous smile. He steps right up in front of Danse where he sits on the edge of his couch, feeling absolutely livid, and stops smiling. Hancock’s fists remain at his side, though; he refuses to let this asshole get beat up without learning his lesson first.

“You listen here, you big metal fuck.” He points a scarred finger in Danse’s face. “You? You’re gonna stop callin’ my friends dumb names. Y’hear me?”

Danse lets go of his task and pushes Hancock by the shoulders, who falls back against the wall.

He takes a moment to process the act, then pushes off the wall again and wipes his hands off on his duster dramatically. “Oh, so that’s how ya’ wanna play this. I see.”

He punches Danse in the face. _Hard_. Then he leaves, brow set in a stony gaze as he storms out and slams the door again behind him.

He finds it strange that Danse doesn’t follow him out of the room, or even shout at him.

Danse heads out on some mission with the vault dweller the day after, and Hancock doesn’t see Danse until dinner two months later.

The residents have settled among tables around the fire and the paladin, like always, puts about a mile’s distance between himself and the others. It takes him three minutes to gather food onto his plate before he speedwalks back off to his little house further down the cul-de-sac. He doesn’t even spare Hancock a chillingly murderous gaze like he wants, he just averts his eyes and scrambles away.

Hancock won’t have that; he didn’t punch the guy in the face just to be ignored.

Hancock opens Danse’s door after another hour, surprised to see the same face not even souring as he greets him.

”Well, now, sunshine, I can’t exactly tell if our little discussion worked if I can’t see you talk to anybody, now can I?”

Danse looks like he wants to either punch him or cry, that stern look indecipherable.

”Get out.”

”Whaa-a-at, no ‘ghoul’ tacked on there at the end? You ain’t tellin’ me you actually took my advice, are ya, Dansey?” Hancock mocks as he moves behind where Danse sits and places a hand on the back of the couch on either side of him.

Danse’s frown deepens, his head turning to look at the ghoul behind him. 

“I said, get out.”

Hancock grins harder. “Hm. I know it’s been a while, but you can’t have forgotten.”

He places a hand on either of Danse’s shoulders, rubbing hard enough to move the larger man’s body with the motion but not so hard as to hurt. Yet. His shoulders tense up immediately, but that’s to be expected.

”Tell ya’ what, sunshine: I’ll get out, when you ask politely.”

Danse drops the book he was holding and his hands ball into fists at his sides.

”No. Just fucking get out.” He looks seconds away from lashing out, and Hancock definitely can’t have that.

He moves one hand from his shoulder to his neck, stopping the rubbing motion so he can hold the man’s throat delicately but with a promise of force behind it.

“Ah-ah, that’s not very polite. Wanna’ try again?”

Danse’s head snaps forward so Hancock can’t see his face, and his whole body freezes. The anger doesn’t worsen, so that’s a start. Hancock had mostly guessed this would’ve ended with either or both of their faces broken, but if something takes a turn and Danse actually starts to listen, it’s great in his book.

Danse clears his throat, arms shifting to rest between his thighs on the seat of the couch.

“You-“ he makes a noise that sounds suspiciously low- “can you please just... leave.”

Hancock grins wider.

”Ohh, so he _can_ listen. Well, since I’m here already: apologize. For calling me a ghoul and a mutant, and for being a dick.”

”I- But I-“ Danse starts, but doesn’t get very far.

Hancock shifts both hands to grip Danse’s throat near his jaw, and Danse nearly jumps. He makes a noise that sounds even more suspiciously low.

”What did I say, Danse?”

Danse tries to shake his head, as much as he can with two ghoul hands at his throat.

Hancock hums. He leans against the back of the couch on one side until he can see Danse’s face at an angle, and lets go of one hand from around his neck to place it on his jaw. He forcibly shifts the paladin’s face enough so he can see the look on Danse’s face head-on.

”What. Did. I. Say.”

Danse swallows, eyes widening, his cheeks warming under Hancock’s hands. Well, seeing as it _definitely_ has taken a turn, he supposes he should take proper precautions.

”Danse. I’m going to ask you once: do you really want me to stop?”

Danse’s eyes narrow a bit, a look of confusion on his face. “...Yes,” he tries tentatively.

That’s all it takes. Hancock drops Danse’s face and steps away from the couch, stretching his arms and straightening the cuffs of his coat as he saunters towards the door.

He casts a stern gaze to the man holding his own throat gently before him. ”You might be off the hook now, but you’re still going to stop being a huge asshole. Y’understand?”

The anger in Danse’s face is completely gone. If Hancock were a lesser and more dumb man, he might’ve even said it was replaced by a little bit of longing.

Danse clears his throat, watching the ghoul with a mostly passive face, but his voice gives away a certain amount of lust that makes Hancock’s stomach turn in the best way.“Wait.”

Hancock leans on the doorway. “Wait for what, sweetheart?”

Danse looks down at the floor, fiddling with his hands between his thighs. “For-“ He sighs. “I am... sorry... for the way I’ve been treating you.”

Hancock all but drops the stern look, intrigued.

”I know it’s not fair. I know that my- that the Brotherhood has done bad things. I know that now.” He puts a hand to his jaw, worrying his lip with his teeth. “I’ve just- come to the realization that I am... a synth.”

Hancock drops his arms, mouth hanging open. Well, now he just feels like an asshole.

”Damn. When’d you find out?”

“A little over a month and a half ago, I believe. I left, and if Nate hadn’t been there to save me, I’m not sure if I would be here right now.”

“...Oh.”

A moment passes where they’re two men staring at the floor in a dimly lit room.

“Well…” Hancock starts.

“I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I- it seems that maybe I lashed out at you the most because I found you to be... attractive, and I was told that was wrong. You have Nate to thank for me coming to such a conclusion. I don’t- It would not be a bother to me if you wanted to stay. Nor would any subsequent... activities.”

Hancock meets Danse’s eyes again, a smile slowly forming back on his face.

“You for real askin’ me to stick around, soldier boy? After punching you? Guess I shoulda’ guessed you’d be a masochist, of all people.”

Danse’s brow narrows in anger, only betrayed by the slowly-returning flush on his face and the subtle shift of his hips on the seat. 

It takes all Hancock has to walk slowly back up to where he’d stood behind Danse and place his hands on his shoulders again, instead of his neck.

”Mm, no comment on that one, Dansey? I suppose in that case, you’re due for some atonement for the way you’ve been treatin’ people. What do they call it? Reparations?”

Danse studies the pattern of the worn-out rug on the floor, breath picking up ever so slightly.

Hancock edges his fingers up to where his shoulder meets his neck ever so slightly in turn.

”You alright with that, _hun_?” He draws out the last word like an insult, and drags his index finger up across Danse’s jugular in a soft motion.

Danse nods after a moment.

”I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation, sunshine. Use your words.”

Danse makes a third little noise, this time almost too soft to catch, and shifts in the seat. God, Hancock could take him right here on the ratty couch. The idea’s seeming more and more appealing with every little jut of Danse’s hips against the seat.

“I-“ Danse mutters, refusing to look at Hancock behind him. “Affirmative.”

Hancock grins- only Danse would use ‘affirmative’ as a form of consent when he knows he’s about to get the brains knocked out of him. It’s kinda’ adorable, actually.

A low rumble rises in Hancock’s throat. “Good boy.”

Danse _whines_.

Hancock jumps across the back of the couch to land standing beside Danse, pulling on his arm to stand up. Danse, obediently, stands.

Hancock pulls on the fabric of Danse’s suit at his chest to bring their faces closer. ”You get to decide one thing tonight, hun. On the bed, or right here on the dirty couch?”

Danse blurts out ‘couch’ so fast it makes Hancock chuckle right in his face.

”Ah, eager, aren’t we, big boy?” With that, he pushes Danse back down on the couch and starts unbuttoning his own coat. “Clothes,” he commands, and Danse starts pulling the suit off so frantically Hancock thinks it might tear.

Danse is reduced to his boxers in a matter of seconds, sitting eyes level with Hancock’s shoulders as he looks up at him in earnest. That shouldn’t be as fucking adorable and hot at the same time as it is.

Hancock places his coat on an armchair behind him with one hand and grabs Danse’s hair with the other. He pulls- not enough to hurt, just enough to grab his attention. “Boxers too, sunshine.”

Danse’s breath comes ragged as he undresses the rest of the way, leaning into Hancock’s touch.

Hancock points to the back of the couch. “Hands and knees, now.”

Danse crawls so he kneels upright, knees resting on the seat as he grips the back of the couch til his knuckles turn white.

Hancock allows himself to admire the man shaking before him, his hands coming up to grope Danse’s ass. “Well, look at you, pretty boy. All obedient and ready for a lil’ old ghoul. Imagine if Maxson could see you now.”

Danse groans, hips moving slightly in an effort to find friction for the cock hanging thick between his legs.

”Well, I say fuck Maxson. Fuck the Brotherhood, and specifically: fuck _you_ , Dansey.” He leans over Danse, grabbing the man’s dick and running the other hand along his muscled front.

Danse fucks into it immediately, and Hancock retracts his hand from his cock to lay a smack right on his ass. “Don’t fucking move. You understand?”

It’s enough to hurt a little, and Danse lurches forward in surprise with a high-pitched grunt as red blooms across his asscheek. 

Hancock smacks him again, harder and in the same spot. “I said, do you understand?”

”Y-yes,” the acknowledgment grits from Danse’s throat.

Hancock hits him again on the other cheek, not as hard. “Yes, what?”

Danse drops his head to rest on the couch as Hancock grips his cock again. “Yes, _sir_.”

Hancock hums in satisfaction. “There’s a good boy.” He moves his hand slowly, doing his best to antagonize the man forcing himself to be still at his mercy. It seems to work, Danse’s tremors picking up speed. He catches Danse’s hips shaking a bit, forcefully keeping them still not working all the way. He decides to let it slide; he apologized, after all.

Hancock steps back, smiling at the way Danse whines at the loss. He pulls a little tin out of his pocket and scoops some up with his fingers; he hadn’t brought the lube with the intention of fucking a Brotherhood asshole until he can’t breathe, but it was always better to be prepared. 

Danse jumps when Hancock places one finger at his rim, turning to look at the ghoul. Hancock smiles. ”This okay?”

Danse nods eagerly, wide eyes closing as Hancock grabs his cock again. He massages for a minute to make sure he’s ready, leaning over Danse to place little marks on his shoulders with his mouth. Danse practically writhes under him, and Hancock can’t help but grin into his shoulder as he inserts one finger and Danse immediately groans.

”Awwwh, you’re doin’ so good for me, Dansey,” he coos, slowly pumping his finger in and out. He drags each one out, adding a second and a third over a few minutes until Danse’s jaw is clenched shut and he can barely keep himself upright.

“Ggh- hh- _Hancock_ ,” Danse whines, and it just about breaks the ghoul.

He withdraws suddenly, pulling on Danse’s body til he can pin him to the couch by his neck. Danse’s breath stops, looking up at Hancock with eyes so full of _something_ that Hancock is pretty much done holding out by now.

He gives a feral grin and lowers his face to Danse’s ear, muttering a soft “You alright?”

When all Danse does is moan and arch into Hancock’s body, he takes it to mean he is.

He plants a quick kiss to Danse’s jaw as he unbuttons himself, and leans back to watch Danse’s face as he lines up and pushes in so slowly it hurts. He adores the way the paladin’s eyes screw tighter and tighter and his voice gets rougher and rougher with each passing second, until he’s nearly all the way in and Danse’s breath comes in gulps. 

Hancock gives him a minute to get used to it, running his hands along Danse’s arms and speaking soothing words like “You’re doing so good, Danse,” and “That’s it, take my cock, you can do it.” It takes him a while, but he eventually calms back down and gives a nod to keep going.

Danse howls on the first experimental thrust.

If Hancock’s vision weren’t blacking out right about now, he might’ve laughed.

Hancock eases the pressure on Danse’s throat; he hadn’t been pushing too hard, but as he tries to pick up speed, he needs to save it for when he has Danse on the edge and begging.

He moves in and out, smiling at Danse’s fingers gripping the couch like he’ll die if he lets go. He takes the hand that isn’t caressing the paladin’s neck and places it on Danse’s cock again, moving in time with his own steadily gaining thrusts.

Danse all but fucking keens, mewling like a damn cat. 

“You look so good like this, sweetheart,” he breathes through grunts of his own, and Danse opens his eyes too look Hancock in the face. 

Danse places his hands on Hancock’s neck, and starts to pull down slowly. Hancock relents until their faces are together and their noses bump with every time the ghoul moves in and out again. A moment passes like that, low and filled with something Hancock can’t place, until he moves all the way in and presses their mouths together in a deep kiss. Danse’s moans get muffled by Hancock, who grins into the kiss.

He can tell when Danse gets closer; he suddenly stops making so much noise, opting to hold his own breath and grip Hancock’s shoulders with all he’s got. Hancock stops kissing him for a second to ask, “We close, hun?”

Danse nods enthusiastically, and Hancock smirks.

”Well. How do you ask, love?”

Danse whines high and it rumbles in his chest. “I- can I come, please?”

Hancock smacks Danse’s ass, hard enough to _really_ make it hurt.

”S- _Sir-!_ ” Danse rasps, nearly shouting it as his he jumps.

“That’s better. Such a good boy-“ he runs a hand through Danse’s hair- “being so obedient for me. You can come, when I say. Alright?”

”Sir, yes sir.”

Hancock grins. He braces himself on Danse’s hips and drills into him a little harder, angling himself better to get a louder reaction.

Once he feels satisfied with how close Danse has gotten, he places a hand on his throat again and squeezes the sides tight. Tight enough to hurt, and tight enough to stop Danse from breathing.

”Alright, big boy. Come for me,” he says in a low rasp, and Danse shivers as he comes in Hancock’s hand. Hancock follows not too long after, letting go of Danse’s throat and still gripping his cock to help him ride it out.

After a while Hancock pulls out, smiling gently and rubbing Danse’s cheek softly at his little mewl. 

He wipes the come off on Danse’s suit and pulls his pants back on before he can see, but the paladin doesn’t sit up. He just lays there, rubbing his eyes.

Hancock hums.

He pulls on Danse’s arm, the man giving him a confused look as he moves to what Hancock wants him to do. Eventually he winds up with his head in the ghouls lap, covered in his suit as a blanket and two ghoul hands carding through his hair and petting his head.

If Danse had any complaints, he certainly didn’t say them.

Hancock is the first one to speak after what feels like an hour but could have been five minutes.

”You feelin’ okay, sunshine?”

Danse opens his eyes to meet Hancock’s, and smiles gently. It’s the softest Hancock’s ever seen the man, and god damn if it doesn’t just melt his radiated heart.

”Yeah. I’m feeling good. Thank you; you didn’t have to take care of me like you did, and I owe you for that.”

Hancock scoffs. “Nah, Dansey, you were amazing. You don’t owe anyone anythin’.”

Danse cocks an eyebrow. “So you don’t want me to repay you in kind?”

”That’s the weirdest way I’ve ever heard someone describe a blowjob in my life.”

The two dissolve into laughter, Hancock still scratching Danse’s head in long strokes. He feels kind of happy; maybe it’s the post-coital glow, but he doesn’t exactly wanna fuck Danse’s brains out just for revenge anymore.

Danse clears his throat softly. “I, uh... I don’t expect you to accept my apology, but I want you to know I’m going to work until you feel like you can. No pressure, though-“

Hancock puts a finger to Danse’s lips, then leans down and gives them a brief kiss. “Dansey, Dansey, Dansey. I’m a simple man. Instinctual. And right now, those instincts are telling me you’re actually sorry.” He gives him a soft smile. “As long as you give an apology that doesn’t involve sex to the others, we’re good.”

Danse looks up at him with so much emotion that Hancock’s almost afraid to place it, but from where he’s sitting it looks suspiciously like affection.

Huh.

By god did he not expect to be falling asleep five minutes later, big-spooning a Brotherhood soldier in the dead of night. He won’t complain, though. Maybe the lughead has more personality than he lets on.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m displaying so much weakness because it’s physically impossible for me to not end a fic Softly. also yes i’m a coward and am posting my nsfw fics under a different acc. you’ll never find me <3333333 anyways i hope you enjoyed like 3000 words of me exposing myself via my kinks. it would’ve been less effective to bring a megaphone to a busy mall and shout “i like to get choked” i guess


End file.
